Controlled Burn
by AFIS
Summary: Ecklie and Catherine are making Sara's life miserable and, as a result, she's forced to work on her day off. Grissom wants to have fun with his wife when all Sara wants to do is work but Grissom finds an interesting way to make Sara lose focus.


**A/N - **This will probably be my last story for a little bit since I'm heading back to college and all that brings in a couple of days. I cranked out one last fic for everyone before I left so be happy with what I've given you, readers! Personally, I'm surprised this thing came together in time because when I edited it the first time I had two different POVs in one story, which is a big no-no. Apparently, while writing this ff, I was smoking some Mary Jane. lol. Now, enough complaining about all of the work that went into editing this story. Have fun reading and remember to leave me some feedback. Thanks.

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI or the characters no matter how much I fantasize about Sara, Grissom, and myself having a threesome. Thanks for letting me borrow the universe/characters, CBS/other owners of CSI. Unlike actors, I don't get paid so I have no money to sue over.

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><p>An extremely heavy sigh of annoyance pulled itself from my throat for the fiftieth time that night as my husband, Gil Grissom, sat patiently in front of my work desk with a sickly sweet smile that reminded me of a child told to sit quietly for mommy to finish her work. I'd told him repeatedly that I didn't have time to play games tonight, but nothing could deter him from trying to make me lose focus on this damn paperwork.<p>

Ecklie was constantly up my ass about my "priorities", or lack thereof, and I'm tired of it. I came back to Vegas to return back to solving crimes, not to be berated on my lack of responsibility and work ethic like I'm some lethargic teenager going through puberty. The logical side of my brain is telling me that maybe Ecklie is transferring his scathing dislike for Gil to me since he's my husband now but that seems a little low, even for Ecklie.

But finally, after several hours of uninterrupted clicking away at my keyboard, I had finally gotten most of the reports finished, until Gil got bored playing the understanding husband which I should have expected. My husband has enough patience to listen to Hodges's endless one-sided discussion about his cat, Kobayashi Maru, but when it comes to craving my body, his patience is nowhere to be found. No, don't get me wrong, I love that I can make Gil want nothing more than my touch, but I have a job that requires my full attention. Sex kind of loses its thrill when your mind is focused on how many ways Ecklie is going to make your life miserable, after finding out you didn't do your final mandatory report on all of your open cases…again.

But Grissom couldn't be deterred from his efforts; all he wanted was me, regardless of all of my responsibilities to the lab he was breaking in the process. I hate him when he's like this.

It started innocently with a couple of knocks on the door leading to my study. He wanted to know where I had stored Hank's dog food cans, but it soon devolved into watching Gil Grissom fumble and fidget around on my vintage velveteen couch like a twelve-year-old boy waiting for his prom date to finish getting ready with her overeager mother.

Popping his knuckles methodically, Grissom made another slight sigh. "Sara…I'm bored."

I growled before finally giving Grissom the attention he had been aching for. My neck creaked in response as I lifted my face toward my husband with an indignant frown.

"Gil, honey, I need to get these investigative reports finished like yesterday." I said exhaustively before shaking my head, "Ecklie is already on _Catherine's_ case about the lack of 'productivity' in the grave shift, which means, _Catherine _is on my ass about all of the reports _I've_ been putting off recently in order to go traipsing across the Parisian landscape with _you_. So, in actuality, this is punishment for your actions, Gil; stop trying to make me lose focus and go play check on your ant farm or something."

Grissom crossed his arms across his chest with a playful frown as his eyebrow raised slightly at me. "I don't like what you're implying, Ms. Sidle. If anyone should be punished, Sara, it's you for not getting your responsibilities in order before I "made you" buy a ticket, with your own money, I might add, to come see me in Paris. And you know how much I love giving you the punishment you so rightful deserve."

"God, Gil, you know exactly how to turn me on with your big promises of punishment," I sarcastically added before turning back to my endless, mind-numbing, and half-finished reports, "but, I need to get this finished or you'll end up picking my body up from the morgue tomorrow morning. Please, can't you walk Hank or something for an hour? I promise you, after I finish these last couple of pages, we can play Bad Young Student Meets Naughty Old Professor."

Gil slowly rose up from my plush couch and moved toward the back of my work chair. My breathing hitched uncontrollably in response to his body heat as it embraced my soul warmly. Sometimes being with Gil was like being trapped in the direct path of an oncoming tsunami, but other times it was like all of my naïve childhood fantasies of being saved by a miraculous prince come to life.

This time, however, was different. As my arousal began pacing anxiously back and forth in its cage as it waited to be released from its cage, I realized that Gil was neither the tsunami nor the prince of my dreams for this sexual encounter. I knew that he knew that I was precariously close to the edge of no return but he wasn't pushing me off or trying to save me from the brink, Gil was waiting on me to make a decision.

I was practically crawling out of my skin from fear and lust. It wasn't like I wasn't used to having control in the bedroom with Gil but that was always his thing, control never got me off in the same way as it did him. It's always been that way between us. Even back in the day when our relationship was known only between the two of us, it wasn't uncommon for Gil to knock quietly at my apartment door after another depressing shift and, as I opened the door exhaustively, he would grab my weakened arms, before throwing me onto to my couch to have his way with me.

Gil deserved all the happiness in the world; if allowing him to take away one of the few things in my life that hadn't been tattered into useless shreds because of my fucked-up childhood was a way to give him just a glimmer of the happiness he deserved, I hardly saw any reason to complain. But never had he given her the choice to take back that control she had given him. This was partially because she had never asked nor did she expect him to give it back, but as my eyes closed in response to the fantasies running rampant through my mind like a racehorse on steroids, I realized that maybe I should have taken back the control that I had entrusted to my husband sooner. Never had I imagined control to be so stimulating.

My fingers stilled in their feverish movement back and forth across the keyboard before my body focused on the sudden sensation of the tiny prickling of Grissom's salt-and-pepper stubble against my smooth skin. Sweat formed a slight glaze on my hands after I felt each tiny puff of used oxygen descended from the slight opening in my blouse to my rapidly hardening peach hued nipples and goose bump flecked chest. My entire body was stuck between shutting down in frustration and crying out in satisfaction. If this was what Gil had to endure every time he had control, I owed him an apology.

Uncontrollable tremors ran down my spine before flooding into my enraged clitoris that desperately needed attention. Fuck doing boring lab reports for Ecklie and getting death stares as I made the walk of shame into his poorly decorated office for what felt like the hundredth time. Fuck my future plight of trying to survive being thrown into Lake Mead by an angry Catherine, who'd probably dance on my watery grave. All that really mattered was a release of this unbelievable tension getting heavier and heavier in the lower half of my body. I couldn't help but muse to myself that Gil had finally unleashed the beast that he wanted so desperately to play with.

"Fine, Gil, you've_ finally _got my attention away from work." I said before a slight moan eased languished from my lungs as the blood racing in my clit began to quicken in response to Gil's breaths. "Now, what's your big plan for my punishment? Are you going to spank me for being such a naughty girl for not prioritizing my time better, or is that too tame for you?"

His stubble moved slightly across the side of my face as Gil rested his head against the crook of my long pale neck.

"Don't tempt me. You don't know how close I am to pulling you across my lap in order to give you forty licks to that sexy ass of yours," Grissom growled into my ear. His rough tongue teased my reddening flesh as he started biting down slightly to my endless expanse of flushed flesh, "but that isn't what I want…no, I want you aching for me. More importantly, I want you to tell me what punishment _you_ think you deserve to receive."

A growl of excitement unleashed itself from my throat as each tiny pierce of Grissom's teeth to my flesh fogged my brain. Now he wasn't just insinuating that he wanted me to take control, he had actually said it. If it wasn't impossible for me to breathe before, it was impossible for me to do now. I had no idea how to voice my desires to him in the way that he wanted me to. Giving my control back is one thing but expecting me to know what to do with it is a bit much, even for Gil's high expectations.

My eyes closed as I subconsciously give Grissom more access to my burning flesh. "I don't know what you want from me, Gil. I can't do this like you do."

"You don't have to do it like me, Sara." He whispered as my body began to inwardly thrash toward his teasing fingers. "Tell me how you like it, not how I like doing it to you. Sex isn't a test of mimicry last time I checked, sweetheart."

I shifted in my chair as his hands began moving like maple syrup to my shivering thighs. As his hands played a light tune down my stomach, I released my last breath with a scream of delight. His playful caresses quickly evolved into passionate grasps of my thigh muscles through the flimsy fabric of my knee-length skirt. Never in my life had I ever wished as hard as I did in that moment for a scientific miracle to melt away the one barrier left between his fingers on the ball of burning tension resting in my cotton panties.

Another primal growl combined with a frustrated moan as Gil's fingers waltzed along the now exposed milky skin of my thighs. Despite being supposedly in control, I felt like Gil's actions were at his whim, not mine. Each teasing movement made my back arch upward into his fleeting touch, but it still wasn't enough friction. Endless minutes of frustration continued as I struggled to collect my voice from wherever I'd stored it before, finally, something in me just snapped. I was tired of being submissive to his touch. He'd given me control so it's about time he knows who's the boss.

"God, damn it, Gil, stop playing games with me and just," another groan fell from my mouth as he moved his fingers around the spot I needed him most, "fuck me already! Unless you want me to find a man who can finish the job…I know that it's hard for men in your age bracket to properly enjoy the act of making love without artificial enhancements."

Despite the shameless digs at his manhood, Gil remained focused on any area not including my clit. The heat between us is unbearable; I started to pant like an out of shape athlete after a hard workout. Sweat quickly formed a glaze on my skin as his actions continued to pump scorching blood through my veins toward my lower extremities.

"Sara," a small laugh rolls onto the expanse of flesh that Gil was becoming friendly with, "Being mean to me isn't taking control. Stop being lazy and _tell me what you want_. All this pain and suffering will end if you want it to."

"Gil…I want you to touch me, touch my clit. Put your fingers inside of me and find that spot that'll make me so wet for you and only you. Please, please, fuck me already," I weakly clutched a corner of the wooden desk as a high tide of my arousal crashed through the flimsy dam of my cotton panties, spilling onto the faux leather of my work chair. A small blush painted my cheeks at the embarrassment of my sudden downpour of my arousal. I felt the smile that painted across Gil's lips as he continued to tease me miserably but, finally, after what felt like hours Gil sighed into my ear.

"Good girl, Sara, you're so beautiful when you take control. Now, it's time for your reward," he said as his fingers finally descended toward my dripping sex.

The years of frustration building up to this moment were worth it as Gil's hands played havoc on my body. Each intelligible mutter of lust he extended from his mind to my ears fanned the fire in my soul. Whimpers that I didn't even know I could make, burbled from my insides with each movement his fingers made against me.

Gil groaned into my ear as his fingers move back up to my scorching sex to push my ruined panties to the side. I saw flashing stars as he began to fondle my moistened vaginal lips, the heat increasing even more than before. Every slight motion of his fingers was in slow motion, it was driving me crazy.

"Tell me you're aching for me, Sara. I need to hear you say it. Tell me, Sara."

My voice was impossibly weak as I struggled to form words against the waves of whimpers pulsating outward from my throat.

"I need you, Gil, I need you," I whispered breathily into the open space of my study.

"Good girl," Grissom said before grabbing onto my wrists and throwing me onto my plush couch. A single scream came from my throat when I hit my soft couch with more force than I thought was ever possible from my husband. His eyes were blackened orbs of liquid lust as he lowered himself on top of me.

"Making love is all about balanced control, Sara, and lately I've been manipulating that balance by taking your control from you as well. I'm sorry; I never should have done that. It was selfish and immature but now I've given it back to you. I can only hope you can forgive me for taking something of yours that didn't belong to me in the first place." Grissom said with a boyish look of genuine forgiveness.

I smiled before sighing, "You don't have to say sorry for something I gave to you in the first place, Gil."

He descends upon me again; all is lost. My control over my lust evaporated as Gil finally takes over, however, the difference this time is that I've given him the control that he so desperately wanted over him assuming he had my permission.

Taking control never felt as good as that night but Catherine practically shot me with Brass's service weapon when she found out that I didn't finish my lab reports when I walked into my shift the next night.

When I told Ecklie about my unfinished lab reports, he just laughed and said, "You really don't want to work here do you, Sara?"

I was absolutely speechless. What could I say, "Sorry, couldn't finish my investigative reports because I was too busy regaining my control from my husband that I see every six months at best." So, in conclusion, I guess I'll have to find a job elsewhere, but losing my job was totally worth it.


End file.
